


Cursed

by ShadowE



Category: Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris
Genre: Backstory, Father-Son Relationship, Fleshing out a character, Gen, Headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowE/pseuds/ShadowE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an explosive fight with his father, Dermot tracks down a rampaging fae in India. Entry for the Home Sweet Home Contest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cursed

Cursed

It was the early 1830s. The first War for Independence was decades away. The East India Trading Company ruled India without opposition. As their power increased, they began to change the country. Indians learnt the English language. Railways, roads and so on were laid to major trade areas. Many traditions were deemed barbaric were therefore banned. After the banning of Sati, they set their sights on eradicating thuggees.

Thuggees were highway robbers. They killed their victims as a sacrifice to their Goddess, Kali. Not all thuggees worshipped her, but the majority did. Lately the thuggees had become even more violent. More than nine hundred people had been killed by one band alone, in just one heist. The officers in charge of the investigation reported that it was because they believed their Goddess demanded more blood. While the British regarded this as ignorance stemming from the minds of superstitious simpletons, those aware of the existence of supernatural creatures paid heed and spread the word.

Which brings us to the opening scene of this story, the reception of a hotel in Bombay. The hotel was clearly intended for western folk. It gave a vibe of wealth and superiority. A small Indian man was sitting on a stool, opposite a Caucasian man who sat in an arm chair. The Indian was dressed in traditional white clothing and sat submissively. He was short in stature, had black hair and a small beard. He looked like an average South Indian man. The Caucasian man was dressed in a light brown suit. He was tall, had brown hair and was quite handsome. The odd pairing attracted attention from staff and guests, but no one disturbed them. The two men ignored the glances and obvious contempt for the shorter man; they were too involved in their conversation.

"Are you sure? I spent last month looking up north, by Dehra Dun. I followed the trail but lost it in Thane." The brunette's voice was smooth and cultured.

The Indian nodded earnestly. When he spoke, it was obvious he was Tamilian. It was also obvious that he was worried. "We are sure, Lord Dermot. My own daughter saw Kali when she went to the river to fetch water. She was travelling in the direction of Ooty. I have told you the other reports. She was in Bandipur, Sahib. We would swear this before Ram himself."

Dermot sighed. "Then it is there I go next. Let us hope I am not too late."

After dismissing the other, Dermot made arrangements to travel south. He had been tracking Kali for over three months. Her bloodlust was out of control. The Hindus worshipped her thinking she was a Goddess. She was not. She was one of the fae. While Europeans now told their children "fairy tales" and instilled the idea of fae being harmless or at worst annoying, the reality was far from that. The bloodlust of the fae, their warmongering, was terrifying. It was obvious from the recent reports that Kali had given in to it, and she had to be stopped.

Dermot had taken it upon himself to help. He was close to the people here. While Christianity attempted to stamp out the pagan practices of India, as it had nearly succeeded in doing back in Europe, it was obvious that it was a fool's hope. The people of India clung to their beliefs and traditions fiercely, refusing to give them up. This meant they were close to nature, something his fae side appreciated. As half-fae, Dermot did not belong to the human world, nor did he feel comfortable in the fae realm. He found solace in the company of the two-natured. Or any creature that was not fae or vampire. And that was the main reason he chose to help. As half-fae, he had a better chance of taking down Kali than they did. The other fae would not help them, as non-fae were considered to be beneath their attention.

**********************************************************************************

On returning to his room, he found an envelope on his bed. Even before picking it up, he knew it was from his father, Niall. The smell of magic and fae were unmistakable. Inside the envelope was a summons to meet him. As he was leaving in the morning, he decided to sacrifice his sleep and left for the fae realms.

Dermot and his father did not have a close relationship. Truly, it was the opposite. His twin, Fintan, reveled in being part-fae. Unlike Dermot, he was more accepted by the other fae. Perhaps it was his attitude, perhaps it was his use of fae magic (something Dermot avoided using unless necessary) or maybe it was just luck.

He reached his father's home, and was led to his study. Niall sat at his desk, holding a paper and was frowning at it. As soon as his son walked in, his head jerked up and he glared his progeny.

"I am looking at a report from the human realm. It tells me that you have neglected your duties as my son. As a member of the royal family. According to this," Niall shook the paper, "You have spent the last two years in the company of two-natured in the British colonies." His voice was louder when he said the last sentence.

Dermot looked at his father impassively. "That is correct."

Niall looked at him without speaking. He opened his mouth once, and then closed it. The fairy was struggling to keep his temper.

"You are of my blood. The blood of a fairy flows in your veins. Yet, you demean yourself by seeking the company of such riff-raff! Weres, humans –"

"You forget, father, that you yourself sought the company of such riff-raff. My brother and I are proof." He regretted it the moment he said it.

The older being lost his hold on his temper. "You are no son of mine. I have had enough. For centuries I have ignored your mistakes. You brother defended your actions to me and the court and we listened. I refuse to listen any longer. I curse you!" Niall voice had risen high enough to be heard outside the study, despite the thick doors. "You will not know peace until the curse is broken. The side you deny, the one you despise for its urges will be the only one you will know."

His son had been shocked when he had lost his temper. Dermot had retreated until he felt the doors against his back. He did not feel any different, which made him wonder what his father was talking about. He felt the magic in the air. He smelt it. Yet he felt no different.

Niall had taken his seat once more. He looked at the male across him coldly. "Get out. I will not hear another word from your lips until you have realized your folly. Leave this place. Return to your precious friends." With that, he reached for a stack of papers on his desk and began to read them. He did not look up when the sound of the doors closing reached his ears.

**********************************************************************************

Dermot was unable to sleep that night. He first tried to put the incident out of his mind and focus on Kali, but his mind kept replaying the scene. He then tried planning his apology. By the end of the night, he convinced himself to focus on Kali, and then apologize to his father after both of them had calmed down. A small part of him knew he was avoiding the topic, and it was a very cowardly action. It wasn't enough to convince him to go back to the Fae realm immediately. He left for Bandipur instead.

**********************************************************************************

A few days later, in the depths of Bandipur rain forest, the tall brunette moved through a clump of bamboo towards a small stream. He had found Kali's trail not far from an ashram run by Were-Sambar. The two-natured had offered to accompany him from there, but Dermot had refused to let them accompany him. Ever since his fight with Niall, he did not like company. Small things made him angry. It worsened with each passing day. Guilt. He was guilty. He had dealt a low blow to his father and he knew it.

Once again the half-fairy caught himself thinking in the same loop and stopped. If Kali were to find him in such a distracted manner she would slay him with little effort on her part. He followed Kali's trail past the stream and ran deeper into the forest, and each step brought him closer to the Nilgiri Hills. This was a concern as that area was more densely populated. The climate of the Nilgiri Hill stations was similar to that of England which attracted the British, especially in the hot Indian summer. And all of them would just be potential victims with Kali in the area.

**********************************************************************************

Three days later Dermot was low on supplies and had lost Kali's trail. He was more irritable than he could ever remember being. Even animals were avoiding him, which made him angrier and also saddened him. He was nearly at the base of the Nilgiris. It was hot and he was tired. Unlike full blooded fae, he tired easily. He sat under a banyan tree and closed his eyes. He took deep breaths and meditated.

A rustle in the bushes nearby went unnoticed, until the sound of an elephant's trumpet tore through the forest. Dermot opened his eyes and scanned the area for somewhere to hide or climb to in the event of a raging bull elephant attack. With nowhere else nearby, he climbed the banyan tree.

Looking out from the tree, he saw that it was indeed a bull elephant. However, it wasn't attacking but fleeing. It was just a young calf. The elephant entered the clearing, ran across it and exited before Dermot could determine what it was fleeing from. Then a tigress entered the clearing with three nearly full grown cubs. They followed the path made by the calf, but stopped near the banyan tree. The tigress took a defensive stance, placing herself between the cubs and tree, gazing in the direction of Dermot's hiding place in the leaves.

Dermot met the eyes of the tigress. He thought about the time he was wasting when he could have been searching for Kali. Anger rose in him. He started to move, intending to rip apart the tigress and cubs. With a cry he launched himself out of the tree, drawing his sword from its sheath. However, before he could stab any of the beasts, the cubs fled from the clearing. Startled, Dermot closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened his eyes, the tigress had left as well.

Shaking, the male fell to his knees. He still wanted to kill. He was still angry. And it made no sense. Why be angry when the animals had done nothing wrong?

_"I curse you!"_

Was this his father's curse?

**********************************************************************************

Dermot spent the night in the clearing and in the morning walked to the highway. He joined a caravan of travelers to Ooty. He had decided to force himself to endure the presence of others. He also needed more supplies, so this would kill two birds with one stone. It was obvious that when his supplies started to run low he had gotten more irritable. And five days without human company was trying for anyone. Sure he had gone longer without company, but in those instances he was not worrying about a fight with his father, nor was he so old. It explained his bizarre behavior.

When he reached Ooty he went to the house of a man he knew, Mr. Fitzgerald. Their fathers knew each other, so Dermot was guaranteed lodgings in the man's home.

Indeed, Dermot was welcomed and put up in the man's home. The master and lady of the house helped him find the best supplies, and made sure he had good food. Mr. Patrick Fitzgerald wrung all details of his travels from him and made small talk. In general, all his needs were taken care of for the next two days.

He hated it. The booming voice of Patrick gave him headaches. At times he caught his hands twitching while the image of the man's wrung neck flitted through his mind. Likewise, the high, girlish voice of Mrs. Jane Fitzgerald drove him mad. The thoughts he had about her were not befitting a civilized man. Yet they persisted.

At the end of two days, when he could take his leave and not seem impolite, the half-fae had his bags packed and was nearly on his way out when the voice of his hostess stopped him. She wanted his help moving an almirah. She did not trust the servants as it had valuables. Out of politeness Dermot agreed to help, even though he was seething on the inside.

"Just a little to the left. No! Wait, perhaps more to the right? That might obstruct the sunlight from the window, so perhaps we should have it pushed more towards that wall?" Her girlish voice made the indecisiveness more unbearable. "Maybe a bit more-"

" _Enough_ " Dermot cut her off. "Be quiet, woman. Do you not understand how soothing silence can be? If you must make some noise, why not scream instead?"

With that question, Dermot grabbed her and ripped the front of her dress. The woman screamed tried to fight him off, but that only encouraged him. He sneered at her, and then gasped when she hit him with a vase from a nearby table. Standing up, he looked at her, horrified by his own actions. The thought of wiping her memories did not even occur to him; he just ran from the room, took his supplies and left Ooty.

**********************************************************************************

Hours later, exhausted from his flight, he collapsed by a spring. After washing his face in the cool water, he sat up and took a deep breath, then froze. Kali's scent was in the air. Expelling the air from his lungs, he inhaled again. He was certain she was nearby.

He tracked the scent to a clearing. A figure sat under a pine tree. When he approached, he figure stood up. It was Kali.

Tiger skin was wrapped around her, kept in place with a belt of snake skin. A sword hung on her waist. Her skin was blue, her eyes red as blood and her expression fierce. Her appearance was enhanced by her hair, which was a wild, uneven mess and black as the shadows. Yet she could have been considered beautiful.

Dermot stepped into the clearing and met her gaze, swallowing the urge to draw his blade and kill her while she stood unarmed.

"Who are you?" Her voice was harsh and wary. "Why are you here?"

"My name is Dermot and I am here to stop your rampage. Far too many people have been killed because of you, and it cannot be allowed to continue."

Kali laughed, but stayed wary. "You believe the words of those who seek to destroy me. I am on no rampage. Humans may take my name to excuse their own bloodlust, but I do not need them to do my killing for me. I prefer to do it myself. You have come here for nothing."

Her words made him angrier, and he bit the inside of his mouth in a vain attempt to hold his anger in. While her explanation seemed plausible, there was no proof.

"Do you have proof?"

"Why must I have this proof? What makes you think you can demand it of me? Silly man, I am Kali. A warrior. I do not answer to you. Leave and disturb me no more."

The instant she called him a "silly man" his control snapped. He drew his sword and charged her with a wild cry. She was shocked, but drew her sword and parried his blow. They moved in a circle, exchanging blows. He saw her lips move, but did not hear what she said. All he could hear was his racing heart and the sound of metal on metal. All he saw was a red haze.

After an hour they were still fighting. Then he gained the upper hand by grabbing her hair. The shriek of pain went unheard by her opponent. Dermot cut off the wrist that held her sword, and then slit her throat. High on his victory and battle lust, he continued to slash her face, her arms, her torso and head.

Finally he stepped away from her body, a ruthless grin on his lips. He absentmindedly licked the blood from his right wrist as he stared at the mutilated corpse.

Slowly, his sanity tried to return. However the lust for blood was still there. It had lessened to a degree but he wanted more.

He hated fairies for their warmongering. It was one of the biggest reasons he denied his fairy nature. All his life he had kept his fairy side, with its accompanying emotions locked away. He had never learned to deal with them properly, as his brother had. He brother had accepted his fairy nature and reveled in it. He had not.

Now he understood his father's curse. This terrible curse, which would now keep him from those he loved, from those he cared for. He could not trust himself around them now. He could not stay in the human realm.

He stood there, staring at the body for a long time. He did not know how long. It could have been hours, it could have been days. Time did not matter to him. Finally he came to a decision.

He left the human realm. He went to the fae lands and searched for an enemy of his father's. A fairy who sought to claim the throne. He would get his revenge against his father. And he did not care how it was achieved. Niall had taken his only joy away. The companionship of those who did not treat him as a lesser being. For that, the Sky Prince would pay.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it is very short and amateurish, but it's the best I have in me. The fic is my explanation of why Niall cursed Dermot and why Dermot fought against his father in the Fae War.
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcomed. :)
> 
> This was written a long time ago and posted on FFN.


End file.
